Times Change
by Edith Brereton
Summary: What if Garrosh had decided to feel remorse for the things he had done? Will he be able to find his place in Azeroth, or will he lose himself trying to change? Possible pairings or rating change in the future. Not sure yet.


"Garrosh Hellscream," said Taran Zhu. "You have been tried in a formal court of Pandaren law. Before the jury begins its deliberation on your fate, is there anything you wish to say, to me, to the jury, or to any spectators?"

Garrosh regarded the crowd as if seeing them for the first time. He turned in a tight circle as he looked around the ring, pausing here and there for a moment. At one point, he locked gazes with Anduin, and something flickered across his place.

The former Warchief had never been the type of orc to waste words or grovel to an audience – like his father, he was a man of action. But now he had no axe to swing, no enemies to kill to speak for him. Words would have to do.

"Yes," he said, his voice strong, carrying easily in the large space. "I do have something to say. Honorable Taran Zhu. August Celestials. Spectators from all across Azeroth. I have heard everything you have heard. I have seen what you have seen. There is much that I must say."

Garrosh's gaze went first to Tyrande, then to Baine, then fixated on Go'el and lingered there. "For most of my life, I lived in Nagrand, under the shadow of the atrocities that enslaved the orcs, and my father, who was the first to drink the foul blood of demons. His shame, and the shame of all of the orcs, was my shame, and that shame was my destiny.

"I met an orc who had glorious tales of my father's role in saving our people; he reassured me that Grommash Hellscream had been great, and that I too was great. My father was then the man I remembered and dreamed of: a fierce warrior, wise and strong, able to right any wrong that he had done for the sake of his people. And so, when I led troops through Northrend, and when I became Warchief of the Horde, I approached every task as I felt that my father would, with a weapon in hand and a mind focused on the kill.

"Go'el let me lead too soon, and he was a fool to do so. Doubts still lingered around me. How could I live up to a legacy as great as my father's and restore the glory of the orcs as no one ever had? How could I prove myself to be the warrior that he was? What could I do to make him proud? I could fight and slaughter until every enemy was on the ground bleeding; I could rouse fear in the hearts of cowards and enemies; I could show the orcs the way to the life we had once lived.

"This was my goal. And I failed.

"The fight is all I know. I do not know or care about diplomacy; the concept has always been strange and disgusting to me. I will never pretend to value cowardice and arrogance. I will never be Go'el, and I do not want to be. But I have seen the terrible reality of what I have done, and I do not want to die without honor. And so I ask for your mercy, so that I may win back my honor and clear the name of Hellscream."

For a moment, the room was terribly silent, but murmurs broke out among the spectators. Anduin felt hope building in his chest. Could it be that the orc wanted to change? Had the Light spoken to Garrosh at last? Anduin felt his father's arm around his shoulder, but his bones did not ache. He was at peace.

"August Celestials, you have heard the case of the Accuser and the Defender, and you have heard the words of the Accused. You are a wise and just jury. Tell us, have you reached a decision?"

"We have." Chi-Ji the red crane said. "It is our decision that Garrosh Hellscream should not be put to death. He will be allowed to live among his people to redeem himself, but if he does not change, he will be put to death."

The room erupted into chaos. Taran Zhu called for order and the noise died down some, but there were still so many voices mixing together. Anduin felt like he might faint. He shook off the feeling and looked at Garrosh, and he found himself smiling.

The orc was looking back at him, features not filled with hatred, but something akin to wonder.

He was _free to go. _It was strange to Garrosh, hearing those words. He wondered for a moment if he was dreaming, or if this was some sort of trick meant to further humiliate him. The way the Celestials looked at him unsettled him, but he could see no hatred in their features. He could hear fragments of conversations, the outrage and raw shock in some of their voices, and braced himself for violence. Those who remained in the courtroom knew better than to attack him, though.

His eyes found Anduin Wrynn. The boy was smiling at him. _Smiling! _What in the name of the ancestors was he thinking, smiling at his enemy like that? Foolish boy.

_Foolish enough to earn your words when you thought you were doomed, _he reminded himself. He hoped that he would never have to face Anduin again, not after the things he had said and left unsaid. The boy would never forget his words about Grommash, he was sure. They tasted bitter on his tongue even now, but they had been the price for his life and freedom.

His father would have been ashamed of him.

_Father..._

More than ever, Garrosh wished that he could see his father, even feel his spirit lingering near him. Too long he had waited for his approval; too long he had been unsure of what to think or feel. He was more alone than ever.

Go'el was the first to make a move toward Garrosh. No one in the crowd seemed to notice as he came to the platform and grabbed Garrosh by the shoulders, holding him in place.

"Thrall."

Go'el frowned at the use of his old name. "I did not expect this from you, Garrosh. To say the things you said to all of these people, knowing that they could use your words against you... It is the most responsible thing I have seen from you since you became Warchief."

"Leadership does not suit me. Do not force me to bear that role again." He hesitated. "I am not my father. I am the _son of Hellscream. _You cannot expect me to be anything other than what I am."

"And what is that, Garrosh?"

"A very misguided, very confused orc who happened to be Warchief once."

The two orcs laughed together like old friends.

Anduin waited until the excitement had died down to grab a bowl of noodles. He had told his father that he wanted to eat alone and meditate on the day's events, and Varian had obliged. He needed time to process it all himself, Anduin assumed. That was fine with him.

The sun was low in the sky, and Kun-Lai Summit glowed red and gold and yellow. In the distance, the snow-capped mountains seemed to be endless, and the yaks in the valleys below moved sluggishly together, unaware of what had been happening above them. There was a gentle breeze that made Anduin feel at peace with himself and the world.

At the other end of the overlook sat Garrosh Hellscream, his eyes fixed on the land below him. He did not look at Anduin, but the prince knew that he had been noticed.

"What are you doing here, human?"

"Your wrongs didn't cost you your life."

Garrosh snorted. "So I heard."

"What you said in there... Did you mean it?" The words came out of Anduin's mouth before he could stop him. For a moment, he was afraid that Garrosh would reach over and throttle him with a single hand, but the orc was still.

"I did what you wanted me to do. You must have been beside yourself, gloating to your teacher about your great discipline and selflessness. I am free and you have proved yourself to your friends. What more do you want?" The orc was glaring at him.

"I didn't mean it like that! I didn't say a word about what happened when you were in that cell, and I never will unless you ask me to. It's just, you gave me a lot to think about, and I wondered if you felt as weighed down by your words as you looked."

"Your father is the only thing holding together the Alliance and holding back the Horde, especially Sylvanas and her group of fiends. When he dies, you will be king. If he died here and now, would you be able to keep what is his now?"

"I don't know. I hope so."

"What if he had died five years ago?"

Anduin shook his head. He knew that he would have been useless to the Alliance. "I was a child then."

Garrosh laughed. "You are still a child!"

"I am not!"

"When I was your age, _boy_, I was hunting ogres like humans hunt game, and I had seen more death than you will ever see. That was expected of _every _orc. Peace was laughable."

"There were orcs like Durotan," Anduin said.

Garrosh snorted. "Durotan was a Frostwolf. Had he been a Bonechewer or a Warsong, he would have been a shame to his clan."

"It seems like you're insulting the Frostwolf clan."

Garrosh shook his head. Hadn't Velen thought to give the boy a proper education? Ancestors knew that he had seen enough orcs in his life. It felt so _stupid _to be sitting here, telling a human boy about the orc clans.

"Each clan was as good as the other, but some were more moderate than the others. The Warsongs valued aggression and defeat of one's foes above all else. The Frostwolf clan thought it best to suppress their rage, lest it consume him. We were relentless with a will like iron. They were less ambitious. I imagine that you are a great deal like Durotan, with your silly cries for peace."

For some time the two of them sat in silence.

"I wish that you could look past the Alliance and the Horde, Garrosh. I would like to learn more about the orcs."

Garrosh leaned against the rails of the balcony and closed his eyes. "It is a shame that you were not born an orc, boy."

_It is a shame that you were not born an orc, boy. _The moment the words were spoken, Garrosh regretted them. What the hell did that even _mean_? Did he admire some trait in Anduin Wrynn, the son of his enemy?

"I don't have to be an orc for there to be peace between us, you know." Anduin said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You don't have to be a human for me to learn from you. You're too smart to really think that."

Garrosh shook his head. "It has never been and _never will be _that simple. Ask Thrall if he can ever forget his life at the hands of humans who thought that he was an animal to be used. Ask your precious father if an orc could ever walk the streets of Stormwind without being beaten for the things that were done long ago. If our birth did not ensure this never-ending conflict, the past did. If it was not in my blood to hate you, I would still cut you down when the chance came."

"You could kill me now and escape before anyone noticed."

"I could," he said, "but I am tired of being hated, and even I cannot run forever."

"That's what you want, to hate me for who I am. But I know better. I saw your face when you thought that the bell had killed me. I won't forget that I was the only one that you would even speak to during the trial, because it would have been too much for you to ask for someone from the Horde!"

In that moment, Garrosh's calm front was gone. His eyes burned with hatred, focused on nothing but Anduin. He was shaking like he had been the last time he had visited him in the cell. "You know nothing about me, _human. _Do not be so arrogant as to think that you can know what drives me, because it's beyond you. You're not as mature or as wise as you think you are."

Garrosh walked away with all the dignity of a former Warchief, leaving Anduin alone on the balcony. He sighed. Why did he always have to make Garrosh angry when things seemed to be going so well? He had never met someone so frustrating, so easily angered. Perhaps that was how the Warsongs were.

"I have worried about you a great deal since this trial started, Anduin." He hadn't heard Velen approaching. "There were many things that I would have spared you from if the chance had been mine. The past is a grim place."

"I needed to see it all. I can't lead if I don't know about the past." He hesitated. "Velen, you don't hate the orcs, do you?"

"No."

Anduin turned to face his teacher, and they shared a moment of silence. Velen's dark, knowing eyes searched Anduin's for some sign of what he was feeling; he saw confusion.

"Something troubles you."

"My father would think I'm crazy if he heard me say it."

"I am not your father."

He sighed. "It's Garrosh. He confuses me. I know that there's some good in him – I can see it, and I'm sure that you can too. Just when I think he's ready to open up and consider being friends, he closes himself off and gets angry. I don't know what to do anymore. He won't let me be kind to him, but I can't stop trying."

"You feel very strongly about this."

Anduin nodded.

"You are trying to make him into something that he is not and trying to make him see something that he may never be ready to see. Be glad that he is even open to talking to you. It is getting dark; come inside before your father starts to worry."

Anduin followed his teacher like a child, hoping to forget about Garrosh.


End file.
